


I'll Thank My Lucky Stars For That Night

by abnormalitywrites



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abnormalitywrites/pseuds/abnormalitywrites
Summary: Granny's restaurant is the perfect place for a romantic dinner. The only problem is that Killian doesn't want to be on this date in the first place. And Emma definitely doesn't want to be taken off her waitressing shift to be the saviour of this guy who's definitely been stood up.A  Captain Swan Modern AU for the Captain Swan Little Bang 2017.





	I'll Thank My Lucky Stars For That Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to be posting this fic as my first contribution to the Captain Swan Little Bang.  
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta @distant-rose for her enormous help in cutting up my ridiculously long sentences. There were several points where I did not think this fic would ever get posted and her motivation has been fantastic. Not to mention, @bleebug is also an absolute star and has created some gorgeous artwork for this fic that I'm in love with. Go and check them both out on tumblr! 
> 
> Massive thanks also go to the whole CSLB team for being absolutely lovely and organising this whole event. And finally, thanks to James Arthur for writing the song that vaguely inspired the plot and the title. I've had a blast, and I hope everyone enjoys this fic! If you want to come and say hi on tumblr, you can find me at @abnormality.

Killian was already in a bad mood by the time he got to the restaurant. The blustery autumn weather they’d been experiencing had recently developed into scattered showers that seemed to always time themselves perfectly with when he was leaving the house, meaning his feet had already been soaked twice today and even the umbrella he was carrying had put minimal effort into protecting his hair. 

Sheltering just inside the doorway, he shook the umbrella into the street before closing it and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to counteract the way the rain had flattened it to his head. At least he wasn’t late, he reasoned, turning to face the server’s stand for the first time. Besides, it probably didn’t matter how he looked considering that he hadn’t exactly been enthusiastic about this date in the first place. But of course, Belle had been insistent (“She’s a really lovely person, Killian.”) and he was an idiot who couldn’t say no to his best friend, and that’s how he’d ended up at this particular fancy restaurant on the first date he’d been on in three years, and feeling like he was about to throw up. 

“Table for Jones?” he asked, when he realised he’d been loitering in the entrance for an unreasonable amount of time. The server behind the podium seemed to be getting a little irate, twiddling her long, red nails around her dark hair. 

He found himself being steered towards the window and seated at a little table with a candle – the whole place screaming romantic date in his uncomfortable face. Sighing, he nodded at the server – Ruby, her name badge said – and busied himself with staring at the drinks menu. It was probably unacceptable to order several shots of rum before his date arrived, right? Speaking of which, it was now fifteen minutes past the hour and no sign of said date. Another ten passed before Ruby returned again.

“Are you ready for drinks yet?” she asked, carefully avoiding looking at the empty chair opposite Killian.

“Give it another few minutes,” he muttered. 

It looked like the lovely lady was either an incredibly unpunctual person or was not going to show. Half an hour should have been an acceptable time to wait, right? But now he felt like he’d been here too long – he should at least order a drink or something instead of awkwardly taking his leave. He could feel Ruby’s eyes on him from across the restaurant, and he fiddled with his phone, absentmindedly flicking at apps and trying to pretend like it wasn’t incredibly obvious he might just have been stood up.

***

“Still no date for this guy on 32?” Emma asked as Ruby reappeared behind the bar, looking decidedly annoyed. 

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’, “Gotta give him some credit for the staying power though, he hasn’t even ordered a drink yet.” 

Emma grabbed an order, scanned it and started programming the coffee maker, Ruby doing the same at the station next to her, as she continued rambling.

“I mean, I don’t even understand why anyone would stand the guy up in the first place because hot damn, he is gorgeous. If I wasn’t with Dorothy I would totally be going over there and –”  
She cut herself off and Emma glanced up to see her friend looking over at her with that wolf-like grin that always, always spelled trouble.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

“You should go out there, Ems.”

“You’re not serious,” Emma shot back, trying to rattle the tray of empty mugs around so much that they drowned out Ruby’s voice.

“I’m totally serious. Hot, single guy, literally sitting there and waiting for a hot single girl. It’s perfect.”

Emma ignored her, shoving the coffees onto the pass and grabbing another order. Ruby snatched it off her and Emma’s head snapped up in irritation. 

“Stop it Ruby, it’s not happening.”

“Yes it is. Granny’s not here so I’m in charge and I’m taking you off your shift to go over there and have dinner with the hot guy on table 32.”

She pulled Emma towards her, untying her apron strings, whipping it off and shoving Emma in the direction of the door before she had even quite realised what was happening. 

“You have to Ems, I’m your boss,” Ruby shot her a cheeky grin when she tried to protest again and, well, Emma didn’t have an answer to that one.

Rolling her eyes, she sucked in a breath and decided the quicker she did this, the quicker she’d be home and plotting the best way to murder her best friend.  
Emma squared her shoulders. Ruby might be able to tell her to have dinner with this guy, but she couldn’t make her be nice to him. 

***

Killian’s first thought when he saw the stunning blonde woman striding towards him was that he was going to get kicked out, and he almost hated how completely relieved he was. So when she dropped herself into the chair opposite with a huff, he almost fell off his chair.

“Hi, I’m Emma Swan, and I’m having dinner with you tonight,” she announced, in a tone which let him know exactly how she felt about it.

Regaining his composure a little bit, Killian suddenly became aware of what an awful first impression he was making. He hastily stood up, offering his hand, before he became fully aware of what she had just said.

“Apologies, lass, I didn’t remember Belle saying your name was Emma.”

“Oh, I’m not your date,” she snapped, ignoring the hand.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not your date. I just work here,” she repeated, folding her arms and huffing again.

A horrible feeling hit him as he took in her clothing – almost identical to the rest of the waitresses. So not only had they probably all been laughing at how long he’d outstayed his welcome after it was obvious he’d been stood up, but they’d now sent one of them to be his pity date. A flash of humiliation struck him and he cursed Belle for having ever convinced him that trying dating again might be a good idea.

“No offence but I really don’t want dinner with you,” he said bluntly, shoving his chair back and standing up.

“Wait,” she suddenly grabbed his arm, “Look, I don’t want to do this either but apparently I have to, so let’s just get this over with and we can both go home.”

It was the frustrated desperation in her eyes that got him to sit back down again. That and how ridiculously green they were. But mostly her expression. She clearly needed this job and he highly doubted that getting this woman into trouble with her boss would stop him feeling even worse than he already did. Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face.

“Killian,” he offered his hand again.

This time she took it, and her eyes met his, revealing a quick hint of gratitude before she abruptly broke the contact and grabbed the drinks menu.

“I think we’re definitely going to need some wine to get us through this,” she muttered.

***  
“God, I’m starving,” Emma grumbled, shoving a forkful of tagliatelle into her mouth as soon as the bowl touched the table.

She closed her eyes and almost moaned at the taste of the tomato sauce, made even better by the fact that she hadn’t eaten at all since breakfast.

“This is amazing,” Killian agreed, taking a forkful of his own, “An excellent choice.”

“I mean, it would be pretty bad on my part to recommend a shitty dish considering I do work here,” Emma giggled around another mouthful.

So maybe this evening wasn’t going so badly. The wine had definitely helped to mellow them both out and their respective frustrations seemed to have been helped enormously by the appetisers. Maybe they’d both just been hangry, she mused. She spun more pasta around her fork and shovelled it into her mouth. 

Not that she was enjoying herself too much, of course. And not that she was ever going to admit to Ruby that this might not be the worst idea in the world.

But it didn’t hurt that Killian was, as described, insanely hot. She found herself watching his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed his food, her eyes following the trail of scruff down to his open top button and the dark hair peeking out of it.

“Emma?”

She swallowed hastily, eyes darting upwards as she tried to cover her obvious distraction, only to be confronted by amusement sparkling in his eyes instead.

“Sorry, what?”

“I just asked if you wanted my olives. I’m not a fan,” he grimaced, pointing his fork at them in distaste.

“Oh, yeah, uh, sure,” she pulled his bowl across the table and scooped the olives into her own, relieved as the conversation seemed to return to normal without him noticing where her eyes and mind had been wandering.

They were waiting for dessert and well into their second glasses of wine by the time the question slipped out. 

“So, who were you supposed to be meeting tonight?”

“I don’t actually know the girl,” he confessed, “My friend Belle insisted I get back out into the world of dating, so she set me up with her friend, who I’m assured is absolutely lovely.” 

She raised her eyebrows at that.

“You don’t date around much then, huh?”

“No, I – ” he pauses, clearing his throat and fiddling with his napkin “ – my girlfriend was killed in an accident three years ago and I haven’t really gotten out much since.” Emma recognised the forced smile, her chest constricting a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago now, love.”

He shrugged, and she tried to ignore how her pulse suddenly picked up at the new endearment creeping in to the sentence. Fortunately, the moment was saved from awkwardness as a giant chocolate brownie and a slice of cheesecake arrived, both of them picking up their forks and diving in.

For a few moments, the crunching of brownie crust was all that could be heard. Emma licked the crumbs off her lips.

“I haven’t gotten out much either,” she admitted, still staring down at her brownie. “You probably gathered that,” she muttered awkwardly, gesturing to the table in general.

She felt Killian’s eyes on her and tried desperately not to blush at the intensity of his stare.

“Hey,” he spoke gently, “for what it’s worth, I’ve been having a lovely night tonight, lass, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to even before Anna didn’t show up.”

His genuine tone made Emma glance up. She couldn’t help but smile in return when she noticed the small smile on his face.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“It’s just the truth, love,” he shrugged. “Now, how about one more glass of wine to wash down this delicious dessert?”

Relieved at his suggestion and the lightness returning to his voice, Emma smiled and nodded. She signalled for another drink, ignoring the smirk on Ruby’s face as she poured the wine. And she almost definitely winked at Emma before she walked away again.

***

Halfway through draining the last drops of his wine, Killian noticed the sound of clattering chairs and tables. He finally glanced away from Emma to notice several of the waiting staff removing tablecloths and stacking the furniture. To his surprise, the restaurant was completely empty apart from their little table by the window.

“I think they’re trying to kick us out, love,” Killian chuckled.

She broke off in the middle of her sentence - an amusing anecdote about her and Ruby’s college days. Her gorgeous smile shifted to a frown as she realised they were the only two left. 

“I can’t believe Ruby’s trying to get away with closing down early, I - oh -” she broke off as she checked the time on her watch and realised it was almost forty minutes past closing.

He braced himself for a fit of annoyance, and was more than pleasantly surprised when she caught his eye and her smile spread across her face, transforming into a fit of giggles. She threw her head backwards until the light caught on her earrings, making it seem almost like she was glowing. He couldn’t help from laughing himself at the sudden joyfulness radiating from her.

“I can’t believe we didn’t notice,” she said in between her laughter, “and we’ve made Ruby stay late too, when this was all her idea.”

His laughter abruptly sobered as he remembered the premise of their meal, and his collar suddenly seemed uncomfortably tight at the realisation that this was the end of the night, and probably their acquaintance.

“Well, I guess, we shouldn’t keep them waiting too much longer then,” he managed, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his wallet.

“No, no, no.” Her hand caught his arm across the table and he sucked in an involuntary breath at the warm contact. Both of them froze, her grip lingering a little too long before she drew back, flustered. 

“I mean, I can’t let you pay when this is still my work shift.”

Of course. She was literally still being paid to be his date. His mood immediately soured at that untimely reminder and he knew it showed on his face because he watched her eyes widen with alarm.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Killian,” she held her hands out, “It’s just - I’ve had a great night, and you saved me from having to serve the Evil Queen, and the least I can do is to pay for our meal at the restaurant where I work.”

“Sorry - the Evil Queen?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, she’s a regular customer and she’s so demanding and fussy and everyone hates serving her, and she was in booked in tonight but Ruby told me to sit here instead so I missed her -”

“Swan, you’re rambling,” He couldn’t help his voice and his expression from revealing his amusement as her wine-flushed cheeks blushed a little more. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, reaching for her purse.

This time it was his turn to catch her arm, her warm skin delightfully soft beneath his fingers. He deliberately let them linger until she met his gaze. 

“It’s okay, love, I quite enjoyed the description. You’ll have to tell me more about this Evil Queen sometime.”

She nodded, and neither of them moved until the untimely interruption of Ruby appearing to take their payment. Quick as a flash, Emma’s hand was diving into her purse and pulling out her credit card, handing it over before Killian could make any further protestations. And damn him if he didn’t like her just a little bit more for besting him like that. 

He took his time rearranging his wallet and putting it back into his jacket, smoothing out the sleeves and the pockets instead of having to awkwardly observe whatever silent facial-expression conversation was transpiring between Ruby and Emma. He could get the gist of it from the sound of Emma’s irritated huffing and Ruby’s poorly-disguised amusement in her voice as she told them to have a good night.

“Come on, let’s go,” Emma grumbled, as soon as Ruby had returned her card and disappeared back behind the bar. 

Even her grumbling had started to become endearing, he pondered, before brushing aside the useless thought. Quickly, he stood and stepped around the table to hold out her jacket for her.

“Thanks,” she almost whispered, shrugging it on. 

“I just have to go sign out,” she nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen door.

“Of course, love.”

He pulled on his own jacket as he watched her go, her half-run, half-walk across the restaurant doing nothing but endear her further to him. As she reached the door, she suddenly turned back, her anxious movement belying her decidedly casual face as she checked to see if he was still there.

And at that point, his coat suddenly felt far too small, and his chest suddenly felt like it was expanding outwards, and he realised that he really didn’t want this to be the end of the time he spent knowing Emma Swan. 

He ambled over to the lobby, shoving his hands into his pockets and fiddling with a loose thread while he tried to remember his usual trick of appearing smooth and charming. The problem was, it appeared that none of his usual skill at chatting up one-nighters in a bar could be called upon when it came to this particular insanely beautiful, intelligent woman. He drew in a quick breath and tried his best to gather himself anyway as she re-emerged from the kitchen, a breathtaking smile on her face as she realised he’d waited inside the lobby for her.

“Thanks for waiting,” she smiled, a little breathlessly.

“It was the least I could do after you so generously paid for us this evening.” 

His heart thudded.

“I told you, it’s fine, I really wanted to.”

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until next time.”

“Next time? I don’t remember asking,” she leaned towards him, eyes bright and inviting, and he almost lost his nerve for a second.

“That’s because it’s my turn. Will you go out with me again?”

His blood was rushing in his ears, and his brain seemed to have disconnected. Which was probably a good thing. He vaguely realised that his voice sounded sultry and flirtatious instead of a nervous, jumbled mess, like his insides. The pause seemed to stretch on forever. Emma swayed closer towards him, looking right up from under her eyelashes. He swore he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. For one insane second, he thought she might kiss him.

“Okay,” she smiled teasingly as she rocked back on her heels. 

He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Great.” 

He should have probably thought of something better to say, but that seemed to work just fine, judging by the way she laughed again.

“I’m literally locking up the door right now so you two had better go find somewhere else to take whatever gross romantic comedy this is.” Ruby pushed between them, brandishing a set of keys and holding the restaurant door open, making a sweeping gesture with her other hand.

“Go on, out,” she ushered, and they shuffled awkwardly through the doorway and under the awning, both of them waiting until Ruby had locked the door from the inside and retreated back into the bar, cackling, until they spoke again. 

***

Emma groaned as she turned to face the street properly and noticed the rain running in sheets off the side of the restaurant awning. 

“Great. I forgot my umbrella,” she sighed, pulling up the collar of her coat and lifting the zipper up as high as it would go. She really needed to remember to start carrying one with her. At least being soaked through would be a great excuse to have a warm, relaxing bath when she got home, she thought. Resigning herself to her cold, damp walk home, she turned back to Killian, only to find him holding an umbrella out to her.

“You can borrow mine, if you like,” he offered, and she was definitely planning on taking that relaxing bath because suddenly her heart felt like it had sped up to fifty miles per hour again.

“You’ll get soaked,” she argued, ignoring the rational side of her screaming at her to just take it. 

He shrugged. 

“I’ll be fine, love, it’s just a bit of water.”

She gestured to the storm that was still positively crashing around their shelter.

“A bit of water?”

He chuckled, “I used to work in the Royal Navy, lass, a little storm can hardly bother me.”

Well, that won that argument. She felt a twinge of annoyance as she realised that maybe her insistence hadn’t been about the umbrella in the first place. And now Killian was looking at her searchingly, and she hadn’t said anything for far too long, and she’d apparently officially run out of excuses for stalling the end of this evening. 

“Unless ‘next time’ is just now?” she blurted out, before her sense of shame had caught up with her.

“Pardon?”

“I mean - uh - you said ‘next time’ and I was just wondering, I mean, we could share the umbrella if we went the same way now.”

She watched a huge smirk creep across his face and felt her own cheeks starting to blush as he grinned at her, raising an eyebrow in a way that shouldn’t have been quite as attractive as it was.

“I would be honoured to walk you home, love,” he grinned, stretching out his umbrella-free hand towards hers in a dare which she somehow found herself unable to refuse.

Her hand slid into his easily. She tried not to think too hard about how comfortable it was. Or about how she was enjoying herself more than she had in a very long time. Or about how strong and firm his grip was.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice her preoccupation as he concentrated on holding the umbrella above both of them, stepping out into the rain. 

“So, tell me more about this Evil Queen character,” he joked, and she laughed before obliging.

She was halfway through a long story about an evening involving several imperfect apple turnovers, which had them both in fits of laughter, when the wind picked up and turned the umbrella inside out, scattering water everywhere. 

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbled, attempting to pull it the right way out again whilst still trying to shelter Emma. The wind was having none of it, gusts immediately blowing the frame inside-out again, as the rain seemed to fall even heavier. 

Glancing around, Emma spotted lights a block down from where they’d stopped, illuminating a sign announcing The Rabbit Hole - Happy Hour. She grabbed Killian’s elbow and dragged him towards the building. She only let go when they were just inside the doorway, both of them trying to catch their breath.

“Thought it looked drier than fighting with that all night,” she explained, gesturing to the mangled umbrella’s remains.

“I guess you were right about ‘next time’ then, love,” Killian grinned, shoving the umbrella into the trashcan by the door before taking her hand again and leading her further into the bar.

***

Given the weather, it was hardly surprising that not many people had ventured out, leaving the bar half-empty. They found a booth with ease, stripping off their wet coats and shoving them in the corner, before Killian went in search of the bar, returning with two glasses of rum. 

“Thought this would warm us up a little,” he suggested, pushing one towards Emma. She took it and her face screwed up a little as she took a sip.

“God, that’s strong,” she laughed, licking her lips in a way which suddenly made him have to take a gulp of his own rum, closing his eyes as it burned its way down into his chest. 

They took it in turns to sip in near silence, in some kind of game of chicken, rarely moving their eyes from one-another’s. The further into the rum he got, the further into Emma’s eyes Killian seemed to find himself falling. It was somewhere around his fifth sip that he noticed the flecks of gold, shining out of the green even in the dimly-lit booth. 

“Another?” he suggested, as she drained the last of her drink and placed the glass back on the table, hand slightly less steady than before. 

“You haven’t finished yours yet.”

She raised her eyebrows, nodding in the direction of his glass. 

“What’s the matter? Can’t hold your rum?”

Her eyebrows arched, a smirk playing around her lips which ignited a fire in him. Tipping his glass right back it, he drained it and licked his lips. He placed it back down on the table triumphantly.

“Not only can I hold it, I can hold plenty more.”

He swung his legs round abruptly, striding across the floor to the bar and motioning to the bartender for another round. He let his eyes wander aimlessly around as he waited for a drink, only for them to immediately catch Emma’s from the corner of the bar.

A slow smile crept across her face, matching the one of his own he could feel growing in response. He raised his eyebrows at her, only smiling wider when she raised her own in response, tilting her head significantly towards him. 

A tap on his shoulder shook him out of the staring contest and he turned to find the bartender irately pushing two drinks towards him. 

“Apologies mate,” he grinned, “And could I set up a tab with this?”

He produced his wallet from his pocket, opening it and sliding his card over the bar. He could still feel Emma’s eyes on his back and fought the urge to glance round again.

The bartender grunted in agreement and took the card.

“Thanks.”

He took a moment before picking up the drinks to rearrange his face into a more casual expression, reminding himself for the fiftieth time not to act like a complete fool.

It was completely useless, of course, as he felt the dorky smile returning to his face as soon as he turned to start walking back towards their booth.

Emma was decidedly not looking at him now, her eyes focused down on her phone, fingers tapping rapidly on the screen.

He pushed her drink across the table.

“More apple turnover drama?” He asked, nodding towards her phone.

“Just reminding Ruby I’m still gonna murder her later,” she replied, not even glancing up.

He laughed out loud, not entirely sure if he should be offended by her offhandedness but entirely amused either way. 

“Need a hand plotting out the finer details?” He offered.

“Nah, this isn’t my first murder,” she shot back, stabbing her phone’s lock button with an air of finality and slapping it down on the table. Her eyes levelled his gaze, sparkling with mirth.

“To your long and bloody murderous career,” he chuckled, raising his glass towards her in a mock toast.

***

Emma raised her glass to meet Killian’s. The clink reverberated around their little booth, hanging in the air between them. She suddenly realised that they’d both leaned forward to toast, her breath catching slightly at his proximity. 

His eyes were unreasonably blue this close up. The air in the bar seemed to have suddenly stilled. Her own eyes traced a path down his cheekbones, lingering to trace the light scar on his cheek. It made him look handsomely rugged, she decided, idly wondering how he’d come by it.

He cleared his throat a little nervously. The sound made Emma suddenly pull back, feeling her cheeks start to heat up at her brazen staring. She covered it expertly by instinctively taking a gulp of her drink. It didn’t seem to do much to drown the butterflies in her stomach, so she tilted her head back slightly and downed the rest.

The strong heat and spice of the rum hit her tongue, the alcohol burning her throat on the way down. She slammed her glass back down on the table, rocking back and licking her lips.

“God, that’s strong.”

“I’ve been told I’m rather a pirate when it comes to my taste in rum,” he chuckled in agreement.

Emma felt an odd flash of pride at the way he was staring, sightly dumbstruck at her mouth. She pretended not to notice the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he took a sizeable gulp of his own drink. 

She definitely had not drowned the butterflies. Apparently they were determined to resurface with a vengeance, swarming in her stomach. She licked her lips again slowly, delighting when her experiment worked. He was decidedly staring at her lips now.

“Next round’s on me,” she told him.

Emma hopped up from the booth, and crossed the floor to the bar. And so what if she made sure to put a slight sway in her hips? Against her better judgement, she was actually enjoying her night. The bar was nice, the drinks were doing an excellent job at making her feel a little bit like she was floating, and the company - well, the company was ridiculously hot, a complete gentleman and very definitely checking her out as she leaned against the bar.

She smirked a little to herself. She was just the right side of drunk to ignore the warnings of the butterflies, shoving the unfamiliar feelings aside. On the other hand, she was not at all opposed to having a little fun. (Or a lot of fun if we’re talking about this guy, her brain supplied.)

She was no stranger to chatting up guys in bars thanks to her days as a bail bondsperson - it just usually ended with her pinning their hands behind their back, handcuffing them, and hauling their asses to jail. And she was definitely no stranger to one-nighters with random guys she was never going to see again. And it had been a while. And she was feeling good. 

Yeah, this was happening.

She gathered the glasses and strode back across the bar towards Killian.

***  
Three more rounds of drinks and Killian was definitely feeling a little the worse for wear.

Emma, it turned out, was more than a match for him in the alcohol tolerance department - although he did have to admit, the woman in question was now leaning heavily against his side. They'd abandoned sitting opposite each other some time ago when she'd come back from the bar and slid herself into his side of the booth. He'd known better than to comment, simply raising his eyebrows slightly at her and taking the drink she had offered him. He had to admit, it was much cosier this way and, as they'd continued to drink, her warm body had sort of melted into his side, the slightly sloped seats of the booth drawing them both together.

Silence had fallen between them a while ago. It was comfortable and relaxed - the kind of silence you only usually get with someone you've known for years. He didn't quite remember doing it, but his arm had found its way around her waist and he found his thumb rubbing circles over her waist. A sizeable collection of empty glasses had gathered on the table in front of them.  
Emma's soft breathing against his skin made his nerves feel as though they were slowly simmering.

Her head nodded against Killian's shoulder and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She hummed, looking up at the sensation, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe with her face that close to his. He expelled all the air in his lungs on a sort of rushed exhale, noticiting the way the tendrils of hair which had fallen against her face were blown outwards by his breath. And then he forgot to inhale properly because she stretched her neck up and pressed her mouth against his in a gentle peck. He closed his eyes, trying to prolong the sensation of the softness of her lips as she pulled back, but it turned out it was entirely unnecessary, as she leaned in and kissed him again. The second press of her lips to his was longer and he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling. She pulled a tiny fraction back again and her breath fanned over his mouth, igniting the desire that had been mounting over the whole evening. This time, both of them exhaled heavily, his stomach doing a sort of rushed swoop as their mouths met again, much more forcefully. He let his tongue trace the outline of her lips, sliding it in as she shifted in her seat, opening her mouth wider. He lost track of how long this kiss lasted, ebbing and flowing like waves with a constant undercurrent of intensity. He opened his eyes as she pulled back again, finding her gazing up with a smile which was somehow adorable and ridiculously seductive all at once.

 

"Do you want to take this somewhere else?" she whispered. He licked his lips at the huskiness in her voice and the way her lips were red and slightly swollen.

"I'd love to," he murmured, brushing his lips over hers again. "Wait here while I just go and pay the tab, love."

She nodded, sliding over to let him get out easier. His blood felt like it was rushing through his body at a million miles per hour, and it wasn't helped by how closely he had to press himself against her to manoeuvre out of the booth. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, the room becoming a slightly blurry reminder that he was none too sober himself. This ending to the night was better than he had even considered hoping for. He owed Belle an entire bookstore.  
It must have been last orders because the bar was heaving. He drummed his fingers against his thighs as he waited for at least five minutes, trying to ease his way through the crowd and catch a bartender's eye. He impatiently signed the receipt, thanked the bartender and took his card back. He blew the air slowly out through his lips and mentally reminded himself to get a bloody grip. He'd had encounters with many a beautiful woman in his life but Emma was something else entirely, making him feel like a fumbling teenager all over again.

He stopped short when he reached the booth to find her curled up on her side along the length of the seat. His heart seemed to do a weird leap at the picture she presented - soft and vulnerable and so different to the defensive woman who had stormed across the restaurant towards him but a few hours ago. He felt a sudden surge of protectiveness, instantly replacing his lust. 

"Swan?" he asked. "Love, are you okay?"

She seemed to mumble something in response, keeping her eyes closed. Killian leaned forwards, placing an arm on her thigh to encourage her to sit up.

"Why did you take so long?" she grumbled as he pulled her up by her hand and helped her slide into her jacket.

"I'm sorry, love. There was a bloody big queue at the bar."

She hummed in response, pushing herself into his side. He had to plant his feet slightly as she leaned most of her body weight against him. She may have looked light as a feather to carry but the alcohol had clearly overridden her ability to hold herself up and he was by no means functioning at full capacity.

"Sleepy," she mumbled.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Come on, love, let’s get you home.”

***

Emma’s head felt like someone had stuffed it full of wet cotton wool. She lay with her eyes firmly closed, trying will herself to just fall straight back to sleep. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably and she sucked in long, deep breaths, trying to stave off the nausea. Her mouth was sticky with dryness, and her teeth felt unpleasantly mossy. 

Water. She needed water. 

She took a couple more deep breaths to make sure she wasn’t about to puke everywhere and then stretched her legs out in an experimental move towards finding water. 

Everything ached. 

She slid gracelessly out of bed, ending up sitting upright against the side of the frame. It felt like fifty tiny people were tap-dancing in steel boots inside her brain. She groaned, allowing herself another few precious moments of keeping her eyes closed. 

Water. She could manage water, right? Find a glass, fill it, drink it, and then stumble back into bed and sleep for ten more hours. She didn’t have work today, Ruby had scheduled - 

Shit. Ruby.

The thought suddenly burst open the floodgates of her memories from last night, and everything came rushing back. Killian. The meal. Dragging him into the bar. So many drinks. Killian walking her home. Killian standing in her kitchen. And then.... her mind was drawing a blank. 

Everything hurt, but given the noticeable lack of that particular ache, she was almost certain she hadn't slept with him. 

She groaned again. This was bad on so many levels. Not only did she not have sex with the hottest guy she'd ever met, but even worse, she'd let him walk her home and presumably put her to bed. That wasn't something that she did. Letting a guy look after her and walk her home implied some kind of trust in him. And Emma Swan did not trust guys. Not since Neal and never again.

Her stomach gave another unpleasant roll. 

What if Killian was asleep on her couch or something? This is why she always made a point of going back to the guy's when she had a one-night stand, so she could wake up early and make her quick getaway and never see him again. But, of course, the one time she'd let her guard down and actually liked the guy she was out with, she'd gotten ridiculously drunk and apparently thrown every rule she'd ever made for herself out of the window. 

Groaning, she propelled herself up, wobbling slightly on the spot and then stumbling towards the bedroom door. She swiped her hands under her eyes in an attempt to remove the mascara she assumed had smudged there. If she was going to go kick Killian out, she'd at least try to save a scrap of her remaining dignity. Speaking of which, she suddenly realised she was only wearing a t-shirt and a tiny pair of sleep shorts.

 

She grabbed her dressing-gown off the hook on the back of the door and threw it on, tying it tightly around herself. She folded her arms and huffed a little to herself, frustrated when she caught herself stalling confronting the moment of truth.

Yanking back the door by the handle she stepped purposefully into the hallway, attempting to ignore her throbbing head as she walked into the living room. 

He wasn't there. She felt the tension escape from her in a weird mixture of relief and disappointment. No, she chastised herself, relief, definitely relief. Killian must have gone home and she'd not have to deal with any confrontation when she felt like lying face-down in bed for the rest of the day. In fact, she'd not have to deal with him ever again because he'd gone and there was clearly no reason she might want to find him again. 

Crossing the room to the kitchen area, Emma grabbed a glass out of the top cupboard and filled it with cold water. She took a stead sip, careful of her still slightly unsettled stomach, but as soon as she'd had one, her body remembered how parched she was and she downed the entire glass easily. 

Setting it down on the side, she suddenly noticed a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter, weighed down by a mug, which she definitely hadn't put there herself. She removed the mug, setting it aside and picking up the paper. 

There was a phone number written in neat cursive at the bottom of the note. She threw it down on the side quickly, grabbing her glass to refill it, just to have something to do with her hands. She took a couple of deep gulps of water, reminding herself to breathe. 

It was just a phone number. She didn't actually have to call it. 

Feeling a little calmer, she picked the note back up again to read it properly.

Dear Emma,

I wanted to thank you for being the best accidental and unwilling date I have ever experienced. I went to your restaurant last night feeling like I was going to the gallows and instead I got to spend several hours in the company of a delightful, charming and beautiful woman. I hope you slept well and aren't feeling too awful this morning. I'm not sure how awake you were, but I made sure you were safely in bed before I left last night. Since you were the one who suggested the bar in the end, I do believe that makes it my turn to ask again. How about a third date, love?

Killian

She put the note back down and pressed both of her hands hard against the kitchen counter. She actually was going to kill Ruby. This had been such a mistake.

Emma Swan didn't do dates, let alone multiple ones. She'd let herself get swept up for a giddy evening, and now it was time to go back to her comfortable, normal life on her own. Before she could second-guess anything, she forced herself to ignore the pounding of her heart and crumpled the note up. Then she unfolded it and decided to tear it up instead, making sure all the little numbers were split into pieces before she threw them in the trash can. 

***

Three weeks later and the entire incident was almost completely forgotten. Ruby was still alive, having gotten off lightly with a week of icy glares before Emma relented and they'd renewed their friendship with a movie night and plenty of popcorn. Things at Granny's Restaurant were back to normal, the only drama being the latest incident involving The Evil Queen Regina Mills herself. 

Fortunately, it was a quiet shift this afternoon. Emma and Ruby were involved in an intensely competitive hangman tournament in between serving the few customers who were there. Emma threw the tally sheet onto the shelf behind the bar in annoyance.

"I swear you're cheating, Rubes," she complained.

"I'm not!" Ruby protested.

"I don't think we've even played this many games, let alone that you've won ten more than me."

Ruby rolled her eyes.

"It's the ongoing sheet from last week. And anyways, it's no wonder I'm winning. You haven't been on your game because you're still pining after that hot date you let get away."

"I'm not pining," Emma growled, staring harder at the spaces on the sheet, "We've had this conversation and I am done talking about it, despite what you -"

"Excuse me?" A soft, polite Australian-accented voice cut her off. She looked up to find a customer there, her cheeks pinking a little in embarrassment at her rant.

"Sorry, can I help you?"

"Not me exactly, but I think you might be able to help my friend. He's - "

"Bloody hell, Belle, I told you to leave it alone!"

Emma's brain seemed to have stopped working as Killian strode agitatedly into the bar. He got halfway towards them before he seemed to register Emma's presence, stopping abruptly and swallowing hard.

There was a prolonged pause. Emma felt suddenly very warm. Ruby was trying not to laugh. 

"Anyway," Belle continued, when it became apparent that neither Emma nor Killian were going to do anything other than stand there staring, "Killian's been a miserable git the last three weeks and I'm pretty sure it might help if you guys actually spoke to each other."

Emma recovered first, indignation sparking at Belle's suggestion. 

"I'm really not in the mood," she said bluntly, starting to walk quickly towards the door that led into the back corridor. 

"Swan, wait." 

Killian was suddenly grabbing her arm and she hated the way a thrill shot through her at his grip.

"Would it be a bad thing for us to leave this on a slightly better note?" 

Much to her irritation, the plea in his voice started to nag at her. She made her decision, pulling him roughly back into the corridor until they were out of sight and earshot of the main restaurant and bar.

"I don't have anything to say. It was a great night, Killian, but I didn't just forget to call. I'm not in the mood for another drink with you. Or a man, at all."

Fire flashed in his eyes and she found herself staring at the wallpaper behind him to avoid the emotions she saw there. 

"I know, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and just leave when Belle dragged me in here today. I know you don't want to keep in touch with me, you made that clear. But you have to admit, even though we're quite different, we had an excellent night and we were already planning to go out again. I don't understand what I did to make you change your mind."

She snapped her head up at that.

"That's what you think this is about? That I didn’t want to go out with you again?"

His expression shifted and he blinked in confusion.

"That's not what this is about?"

"I dragged you into a bar and got wasted with you. And then you took me home and put me to bed like a proper gentleman. Of course I wanted to go out with you again. " She cried, hating the way she could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes.

"Then why didn’t you call?" he asked. The earnest expression on his face broke whatever internal dam she'd constructed in front of her emotions.

"Because everyone I've ever been with has broken my heart. And this guy, he almost destroyed my entire life in the process. I lost everything. I can't take a chance I’m wrong about you."

A tear spilled over and rolled down Emma's cheek. She wiped it away angrily. 

Killian reached up to hold her hand, smiling gently as he lowered it away from her face.

"Oh, love. You don't have to worry about me. If there's one thing I understand, it's heartbreak." He sighed heavily, his expression clouding for a second. "I lost everything too. I had never wanted to go on a date less than that evening Belle set me up, but in the end it became the most wonderful night with you."

Emma's heart was thudding in her chest, her vision still blurry from the tears. Somehow, she truly believed Killian. Overwhelmed by the impulse, she pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed him.

They lingered softly for a moment before he reacted fully, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him properly. 

She waited for the panic to set in, to feel the urge to run, to change her mind and tell him it would never happen. It didn't come. Instead, she leaned back on her heels and found him beaming at her. Her heart seemed to start expanding inside her chest, matching the smile broadening across her cheeks. 

"So how about it now then, love?"

"I guess I'll be your date for real this time," she laughed.

He arched an eyebrow at her, grinning broadly and this time she didn't really hate the swarm of butterflies exploding in her stomach. She just leaned up to kiss him again, both of them smiling against each other's mouths as they attempted to ignore Ruby and Belle's squeals from behind them.


End file.
